album: Illmatic (1994)
album: Illmatic: 10th Anniversary Platinum Edition (2004)
genre:

Send "Memory Lane (Sittin' In Da Park)" Ringtone to Cell

(Check that shit) 
Aight fuck that shit, word word 
Fuck that other shit, youknowhatI'msayin? 
We gon' do a little somethin like this, yaknahmsayin? 
(Is they up on this?) 
Keep it on and on and on and on and.. 
KnowhatI'msayin? Big Nas, Grand Wizard, God what it is? 
(What it is like?) Hah, knowhatI'msayin? 
Yo go 'head, do that shit nigga 

[Nas] 
I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners 
Henessey holders and old school niggaz, then I be dissin a 
unofficial that smoke woolie thai 
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie 
Jungle survivor, fuck who's the liver 
My man put the battery in my back, a differencem from Energizer 
Sentence begins indented.. with formality 
My duration's infinite, moneywise or physiology 
Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop 
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block 
I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat 
Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke 
It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines 
The hype vice, murderous nighttimes, and knife fights invite crimes 
Chill on the block with Cog-nac, hold strap 
with my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap 
No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace 
For niggaz no sheisty vice to just snipe ya 
Start off the dice-rollin mats for craps to cee-lo 
With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin below (Peace God!) 
Peace God -- now the shit is explained 
I'm takin niggaz on a trip straight through memory lane 
It's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all 

Chorus: repeat scratches 4X 

"Now let me take a trip down memory lane" -] BizMarkie 
"Comin outta Queensbridge" 

[Nas] 
One for the money 
Two for pussy and foreign cars 
Three for Alize niggaz deceased or behind bars 
I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz? 
My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses 
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real 
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja 
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces 
Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces 
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow 
and back down po-po when I'm vexed so 
my pen taps the paper then my brain's blank 
I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank 
Pumpin for somethin, some will prosper, some fail 
Judges hangin niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct sales 
My intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nails 
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real 
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats 
I decifer prophecies through a mic and say peace. 
I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats 
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black 
Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing 
Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo 
Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand still 
Never talkin to snakes cause the words of man kill 
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins 
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane 

Chorus 

"Comin outta Queensbridge" -] scratched 

The most dangerous MC is.. 
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -] scratched 

The most dangerous MC is.. 
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -] scratched 

The most dangerous MC is.. 
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -] scratched 

The most dangerous MC is.. 
Me numba won, and you know where me from

Send "Memory Lane (Sittin' In Da Park)" Ringtone to Cell